


Doctor Patient Privilege

by AAAuleta, kilodalton, larxenethefirefly, lastincurableromantic, spookyknight



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-08
Updated: 2013-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-31 20:43:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1036162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AAAuleta/pseuds/AAAuleta, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kilodalton/pseuds/kilodalton, https://archiveofourown.org/users/larxenethefirefly/pseuds/larxenethefirefly, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lastincurableromantic/pseuds/lastincurableromantic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyknight/pseuds/spookyknight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sit. Down.” she commanded. Swallowing hard, he immediately sat. Rose prowled around his prone form, stalking the shadows formed by the harsh overhead lights. “Tell me what I am.” "You’re the doctor," he whispered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor Patient Privilege

**Author's Note:**

> An Impromptu Fic Smut Tennis Match
> 
> Contributors:
> 
> spookyknight, dryadalis, aaauleta, lastincurableromantic, re-sile, thebadddestwolf, kilodalton
> 
> beta by kilodalton

They returned to New Earth on a whim, partly to see how the hospital had got on now that their previous resources were gone, partly because they felt like it was as good as any place to see an opera. The Doctor shuddered as they entered through the sliding doors; a tremor he felt echoed in Rose’s body beside him. He knew it was partly a reflex from their remembered misadventure here — and partly a different anxiety altogether. They’d promised to make new memories this time around; memories that would replace a certain ill-fated snog.

The hospital was quiet, since they had snuck in after visiting hours, and the staff was still trying to overcome their newly-found bad reputation. The few people they saw in the hallways were mostly nurses, and the psychic paper made their way easier. Eventually, they found the ward where it all started, curtained off for renovations.

The Doctor wasn’t really sure how this was going to start. Cat nuns, hospitals, the Face of Boe… none of these concepts led themselves to romantic pursuits. He should have guessed Rose would know just what to say. She always did.

"Should’ve paid more attention in the lift," she said with a cheeky smile.

He grinned, more than ready to follow her lead. “Why’s that?”

"Missed my perfect Marilyn Monroe impression. It was quite a show. Had to keep my skirt down," she explained. Then she leaned in close, her voice just a teasing whisper, "I’m not wearing any knickers."

His breath hitched, and a specific part of his anatomy found this news very exciting indeed. He forced his breathing to remain even as he remembered their activities that morning and just why she wasn’t wearing any knickers. “Oh, really?” he drawled, rocking back on his heels and feigning nonchalance. “And if I were to say I had no pants, would that even the score?”

Her mouth formed a surprised ‘o’, cutting through her confident facade. He delighted in his ability to inspire a genuine reaction. Never one to back down, however, Rose recovered quickly. “Just one less layer to strip for your examination.”

She waggled her eyebrows suggestively but the Doctor made a displeased face. “No, don’t… don’t do that. The whole ‘doctor and nurse’ bit, that’s… it’s a little too spot on, don’t you think?”

Rose raised one eyebrow at him. “So I’m a nurse to you? Is that how you see me? Your little assistant, good for taking blood pressure and temperature?” She advanced on him, and he stepped retreated, backing up against an empty gurney.

"Nononononono," he backpedaled. "Not at all!"

The Doctor sputtered, wondering just where this conversation went wrong. Rose straightened to her full height, standing proud before him. “Sit. Down.” she commanded.

Swallowing hard, he immediately sat.

Rose prowled around his prone form, stalking the shadows formed by the harsh overhead lights. “Tell me what I am.”

“You’re the doctor,” he whispered. And then felt oddly turned on. He wondered if he could sneak a peek under her skirt from where he was.

Before he was able to check, she spun out of his frame of vision; lithely moving as though she wasn’t affected by this. He closed his eyes, hoping to get his body under control; as soon as he did so she spoke: “Ah, ah, ah…you’re being punished. I never told you to close your eyes.” When he felt her hand in his hair, he thrilled at the sensation. His pleasure turned quickly to pain when she tugged harshly at the strands. “Open. Your. Eyes.”

Okaaaaay, the game had changed. So she wanted to play it that way did she? He obediently opened his eyes.

"I see you’ve developed a problem with your…" She looked down pointedly at the pinstriped fabric starting to tent between his legs. "Self restraint," she purred, mouth quirking up into a smirk. "Hardly befitting of your superior biology, Time Lord. How long have you been experiencing these… symptoms?"

"Oh, it’s been quite a while, doctor," he said, trying to hide a smirk of his own. His voice lowered an octave. "I think it started… in a department store basement."

“I see,” Rose intoned thoughtfully, maintaining her clinical tone. Releasing her hand from his hair, she drew the other up and he saw the glint of something shiny twirl in her fingers. His sonic! Just when had she—?  _That minx,_  the Doctor thought.

"I will definitely need to make a thorough examination," she said. "And for that you will definitely need to remove your trousers."

"Just my trousers?" he asked impudently.

Rose narrowed her eyes but simply said, “For now.”

She stepped back just a fraction, allowing him the room to stand. And so it was the Doctor toed off his trainers and removed his trousers, feeling a little silly — yet strangely rather aroused — wearing all his layers on top and nothing below, in an abandoned hospital wing at the mercy of Rose Tyler.

"For the examination," she said, "you will need to lie back down." He raised an eyebrow, but obeyed, and she knelt over him. He swallowed apprehensively when she pulled out his sonic. And then… oh, how had she found that setting?

His clever Rose, dragging the instrument slowly, slowly down his torso starting just below his neck, the vibrations fluttering the fabric and sending pleasant shudders down to the skin beneath. The sensations sparked along his his nerve endings, clouding his brain with a welcome haze of lust and fueling his arousal. Above him, his sensual tormentor grinned smugly.

“Do you feel any relief to your symptoms?” she asked, and he was amazed at the control she was still exhibiting.

“Guh,” was all he managed to reply.

He reached for her, desperate to complete the circuit of desire with her touch. The Doctor was a giving lover — he delighted in bringing Rose pleasure and his first instinct was to initiate, rather than accept. He was reminded that this violated her rules, however, when she swatted his hand away.

"No," she scolded firmly. "This treatment is an exercise in self restraint, remember?"

Abandoning the sonic on the bed beside his arm, she straddled him, her knees on either side of his, close but not touching. And then she did something incredibly… Words couldn’t describe the torture as she leaned over and gently breathed on him. He bit his tongue, hard, in an effort not to move.

"Rose," he ground out through clenched teeth, his restraint hanging by a fraying thread. As much as the Doctor wanted to give her this chance at dominance, his control only went so far.

From her precarious position, mouth hovering temptingly close to where he wanted it to be, she had the nerve to lick her lips ever so slowly, fixing him with a dark stare. “The first step,” she drawled. “Is admitting you have a problem.”

"Well," the Doctor ground out, eyes trained on her lips. "The fourth step is to make a searching… and fearless… inventory."

He pushed his hips up, slightly, but Rose moved her head back, lips still a hair’s breadth away.

Rose met his eyes, a brow quirked, a curious expression on her face. “Is it really—?” Catching herself, she shook it off, all smoulder again. “Well. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

She licked a slow trail around the head of his cock.

He gasped. “Rose!”

Rose rested her hands on his hips, restraining the tiny jerking motions his body was involuntarily making. She continued running just the tip of her tongue, first down the vein, then in little circles around the base; finally bringing herself back to the tip and swallowing him whole.

He groaned, jerking helplessly against her hands on his hips, and moved one hand down her neck to caress her shoulder, denying himself the temptation to tangle his hand in her hair. She took her time, slowly licking her way up and down before wrapping her mouth around him, then starting all over again. His breath caught, gaze trained hypnotically on the slow rise and fall of her head.

It was when the pressure started to build that Rose lifted her head, looking contemplatively at his straining cock. “I’m afraid there’s only one treatment for this condition. But it comes at a price.”

"Price? What price?" the Doctor said, going for nonchalance but failing to mask the strained need in his tone.

"Well," Rose drawled, giving him a wicked grin as she moved up the length of his body on her knees, slowly hitching the flowing skirt of her dress over her hips as she went. She stopped when she was straddling his shoulders, feeling the rapid rise and fall of the Doctor’s chest beneath her thighs. "The patient has been talking far too much for my liking."

"But I’ve hardly—!" the Doctor began, before Rose clamped her fingers over his mouth and inched her hips even closer to his face.

"Restraint, remember? It’s time you put that tongue of yours to good use."

His eyes grew lazy and hot as the meaning of her words sunk in. He slid his hands around the back of each of her thighs, enjoying the sound of her breath hitching and the involuntary movement of her hips as her soft flesh prickled under his ministrations.

He hoisted her a few inches more towards his mouth, his lips just centimeters below her curls, and he chuckled. He took one finger and slowly drew aside the material of her skirt, licking his lips.

“Can’t have that, now, can we?”

She grabbed at his hair, fist tight against the short strands, and met his eyes, dark and mischievous and nearly obscured by her skirt.

"You sure this is funny? As your doctor, I have to say, this is a serious matter."

She lowered her hips those final centimetres and he adjusted her so she rested some, but not all, of her weight against his hands, the rest of her weight on her knees. He gave her a light, slow lick from her opening to her clit and moaned against her, the vibrations sending jolts through her thighs, between her legs, and back. Pulling back just slightly, he flicked his tongue in light circles around her clit, then licked her slow and long again, tongue running gently along her slit over and over without ever entering her. Her breath hitched and she tightened her fist in his hair, grinding against him a touch less gently than she normally would.

"My rules. No teasing," she gasped.

Without pulling away from her, he spoke. “I think you’ll find that they’re my rules now.” The vibrations from his deep timbre echoed through her, making her keen into the abandoned wing.

Despite his words, the Doctor decided it might not be the worst idea to intensify his efforts — driving Rose to distraction would give him a chance to sneak a hand down to relieve the unbearable tension currently bobbing against the hem of his shirt.

Without warning, he slid three fingers into her, wishing the tightness and wetness he found were around something else entirely. His cock twitched when she gasped breathily in surprise and rocked against his face, his mouth and chin now slick with her juices.

As his fingers corkscrewed in and out of her and his tongue continued its assault, the Doctor snaked a hand toward his throbbing cock and palmed it firmly, hips grinding instinctively.

"Unnh, fuck," Rose gasped from above him, followed by a shaky, "Not… so fast… Doctor."

He broke away from her, laughing, and said, “What, talking to yourself, then, are you? Thought you’re still giving me my treatment, doctor? Think you ought to focus.” He angled his hand back, rubbing his fingertips against the small, raised spot inside, and planted his mouth on her again, licking her clit with the flat of his tongue, soft and light, then harder, then soft again.

"Doctor," Rose moaned, forgetting herself, off-balance and dazed, pressing her center against his mouth. Pleasure coiled through her, tightening, threatening to snap. There was no slowing down, now.

Until, abruptly, he pulled his fingers out of her. She cried out in disappointment, until he switched hands, dipping the index, middle, and ring fingers of his left hand into her, barely missing a beat, and grabbing himself with his Rose-slicked right. He thrust quickly into his fist, the shaking causing her to rock against him and nearly lose her balance.

She caught herself on his shoulders and trembled as the long cool fingers of his left hand plunged inside her, a dizzying change from the moist heat of his lips and tongue, still massaging and sucking at her core. As she inhaled she caught her own scent in the air, something she’d never considered erotic until now, but as he pumped himself into his slick hand she gasped at their mingling scent, her staccato breaths suddenly in time with his own.

She could only see his eyes from where she sat straddling him, brown and dark and hungry, and as his tongue circled her clit greedily she stared down at him, drinking him in. He growled then, the vibrations from his tongue and lips and jaw sending shockwaves through her, and she keened as her muscles clenched around his hand.

Encouraged, he fastened his mouth around her clit, sucking gently, flicking the tip of his tongue over her, and fucking her hard with his fingers, the wet sounds of both of his hands filling the room. She cried out, falling forward and bracing herself on one arm as she came, grinding herself against him, aware of nothing but the feel of his mouth and fingers against her.

He worked her through it, massaging her and suckling gently, slowing the hand against himself so she could rock with him, gently, instead of shaking harshly against him.

But she was still crying out, still keening, coming hard, hungry walls still clenching around his fingers even as they both expected her to come down.

"Fuck, fuck," Rose said, lifting her hips. His fingers slid out of her as she crawled down his body, settling herself above him and swatting his hand away.

She lowered herself onto him without hesitation, panting, and bouncing up and down quickly and deeply. Still mid-orgasm, she kissed him, pushed even higher by the taste of herself on his lips.

His body responded immediately, his hips grinding into hers of their own volition, his breath shuddering into her mouth as her swollen muscles spasmed against his cock. He thrust into her with renewed vigor, pushing her hips back for a better angle, eager for her to ride out her orgasm for as long as possible.

His tongue plunged against hers, as his hands snaked up her torso towards her breasts, still trapped by the fabric of her blouse and bra. He grabbed at the front of her blouse and tore, and she gasped as a few buttons popped free and skittered noisily to the floor. He pushed down the cups of her bra as she continued to ride him, his mouth finding her nipple and she moaned.

Gripping his hair again with one hand, she snaked the other between his side and his arm, wrapping it around his back and using it for leverage as she bounced up and down in his lap. Her muscles gripped and released him repeatedly and he gasped against her chest, hips jerking up against her without his conscious control. She ground down onto him, clit rubbing hard against his pubic bone, and pulled his him by his hair away from her chest and up to her face, kissing him hard.

Shuddering, he thrust faster until the tension reached its breaking point. Grabbing her hip with one hand, he held her still, fucking her from underneath, his strokes deep and hard. He found her clit with his other hand, rubbing in tight circles with his thumb. He cursed under his breath, muttered her name, movements irregular and graceless. Finally reaching her peak against his long, hard cock and clever thumb, she let out a long keen, then fell silent.

A moment passed, his motions slowing, his thumb changing its motion to slow, gentle circles against her. She lowered her head to his neck and let out a deep sigh.

"Think you’re cured," Rose murmured hoarsely.

The Doctor chuckled, still breathless in the afterglow. “Hardly,” he quipped. “My attraction to you is definitely a chronic condition.”

She somehow summoned the strength to lift up and look at him and he marvelled at this hidden store of energy — inwardly, because outwardly he couldn’t do much more than flash her a sloppy smile.

“Same treatment next week?” she bantered easily.

“Far too long,” he protested, guiding her head down for a kiss. “How about tomorrow?”

“How about tonight?”

…they never did make it to that opera.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Visit http://spookyknight.tumblr.com/post/66287402820/whofic-tennis-doctor-patient-privilege for more information about the Contributors to this tennis match.
> 
> If I missed any of your psueds here on AO3, just let me know :)


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